


Cream Filled

by Amorous_Flammetta



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Aziraphale Has a Vulva (Good Omens), Belly Kink, Belly Rubs, Body Worship, Bottom Aziraphale (Good Omens), Chubby Aziraphale (Good Omens), Come Eating, Crowley Has a Penis (Good Omens), Established Relationship, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, Fluff and Smut, Food, Food Kink, Food Porn, Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), M/M, Making an Effort (Good Omens), Multiple Orgasms, Not Beta Read, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn, Post-Canon, Service Top Crowley (Good Omens), Shameless Smut, Smut, Thank you for my pornography, Top Crowley (Good Omens), Vaginal Sex, i'm SOFT, no beta we die like men
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-11
Updated: 2019-08-11
Packaged: 2020-08-19 10:00:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,727
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20207890
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amorous_Flammetta/pseuds/Amorous_Flammetta
Summary: Crowley takes Aziraphale out for a nice meal and finds the angel's vocal enjoyment of the food rather distracting. But it's the dessert that gives him ideas... After all, who doesn't love cream-filled pastry?Steamy, shameless smut ensues.





	Cream Filled

**Author's Note:**

> Hello all,  
Back at it again with another absolutely filthy one!  
I want to warn you from the outset - this fic contains what I would classify as light-to-moderate food kink and belly kink, but nothing too-too wild. If you're not about it, this might not be the fic for you. Might be a good intro, if you're feeling experimental!  
I love my chubby angel baby, and so does Crowley.  
I hope you all enjoy!  
Sordidly yours,  
Amorous Flammetta

It all started at a restaurant. 

It always did, really. 

Crowley loved to watch Aziraphale eat. Tonight they were dining at a lovely little French bistro. Their hours were inconsistent, and they were often understaffed. It was truly lucky if they got everything right – a table on a night that wasn’t swamped, casually dropping by to actually find it open, managing to order the best items on the menu before they sold out for the day – without a miracle. Everything was going swimmingly so far. 

Aziraphale was dining indulgently, as usual. The meal started with a salad topped with bacon lardons, warm shallot vinaigrette and a runny egg. Crowley watched carefully as the angel used the side of his fork to cut the egg, revealing a gelled center that spilled out onto the greens achingly slow. Aziraphale gasped indecently. Crowley gripped the side of his chair a bit harder. 

The angel’s eyes appeared to roll slightly as he took his first bite with a muffled “mmmph.”

“Crowley, you simply _must_ try this!” Aziraphale enthused. 

He pushed a forkful of food toward Crowley, the golden egg yolk oozing invitingly over a small glistening jewel of fatty bacon. Perhaps it was the snake in him that made Crowley lean in for the morsel of egg. Perhaps it was the wide-eyed, hopeful look of his dining partner, wanting to share something he found so delectable. 

Crowley accepted from the fork in Aziraphale’s hand, not drawing it out. He didn’t want to let on how sensual he found the current situation. 

“S’good, angel,” he said, gazing at Aziraphale through his dark glasses. 

He meant it, but knew he’d never appreciate it like Aziraphale did. Nobody appreciated their food like Aziraphale did. Despite having swallowed the eggy morsel, Crowley’s mouth began to water. 

Aziraphale smiled widely in return and continued with his salad.

Crowley was absently picking at a plate of crispy sweetbreads with a white wine and caper sauce. He was eating, but slowly and sparingly. Of course, there was wine. He’d really just come along for the show. His dining partner had closed his eyes, savoring another bite of egg, bacon and greens, moaning softly as he chewed. Crowley set his jaw and moved his knees a bit further apart under the tablecloth. 

He inelegantly stabbed a sweetbread on his fork with a violent clink and pushed it through the light sauce on the plate. He held it up loosely. 

“Aziraphale,” he said, breaking the angel from his trance, “Sweetbread?”

“Oh, don’t mind if I do, dear,” Aziraphale replied, leaning far across the table and daintily taking the meat from Crowley’s fork with his teeth. 

The angel’s eyebrows knitted with pleasure as he savored the bite he was given. The demon suppressed a shudder. Aziraphale very rarely took from his fork in public. Oh, yes. Tonight was going to be interesting. 

“That was _marvelous_,” the angel sighed, “Thank you, my dear.”

“Welcome,” Crowley replied, making sure his glasses were straight on his face. This was not for the benefit of their fellow diners, but to make sure that Aziraphale didn’t see the lustful look in his eyes. 

The entrée arrived a short time later. Crowley had foregone an entrée, settling on a little crock of beef and onion soup. Aziraphale had chosen confit of duck leg with potatoes cooked in duck fat. His eyes sparkled as the plate was laid down in front of him, glistening and aromatic. 

“Oh, my. This looks positively _scrumptious_,” he marveled, his hands suspended midair in wonderment. 

Meanwhile, Crowley was setting aside the one giant cheese-covered crouton from his soup on a nearby plate. He was distinctly annoyed with the restaurant’s choice of one inconveniently-large crouton rather than several smaller ones. The cheese was so terribly stringy. In the end, he managed without disaster, and the savory broth was worth his struggle. 

Soup, you see, is easy to eat without paying attention. No bones to watch out for. No need for any cutting or fussing. One can take in everything around them while enjoying soup. For example, one could intently watch the enraptured angel across from him having the time of his life with a duck leg and not have to spare a passing thought to their soup. Crowley had always been a shrewd customer in this way. 

Aziraphale was tucking in to his first bite of duck meat. He lifted the fork reverently to his mouth. His eyes fluttered closed as it touched his tongue. 

“_Luxurious_,” he groaned, leaning back just slightly in his chair. 

Crowley’s knees knocked together gently under the table, and his right ankle started to bounce impatiently. 

Watching Aziraphale eat was a positively carnal experience. The sighs, the little moans, the way his tongue darted out over his lips, the way he knitted his brows. This was about as unbridled as the angel got in public and it was all Crowley could do to keep from discreetly palming his own cock under the table. 

As a demon, Crowley was hardwired to enjoyed sin. Usually it was completely impersonal. It was the feeling of a bad job well done. It made him feel good to tempt and cause a little mischief and chaos here and there. But nothing – _nothing_ – compared to this. 

Most often, Crowley had no ties to those he tempted into sin. He just gave a stranger a suggestion or two and then went along with his day. He caused a bus to break down, creating a two hour delay for all central London commuters. Fine. He created a power outage that affected an entire village. Dandy. But this was _Aziraphale_. An _actual_ angel from Heaven. _His_ actual angel from Heaven, sighing and buckling in public over the sensual temptation of food. Crowley didn’t even have to do anything! No actual tempting involved. He could literally watch this with zero effort. A free show. This was much more than the satisfaction of doing one’s job. This was pure pornography. A private show that only Crowley was aware of. 

He watched Aziraphale carefully select a potato from his plate. He scraped the tines of his fork against it lightly to test for crispiness. The angel smiled approvingly and deigned to put the potato into his mouth. 

“Ah!” he cried softly, “Positively _divine_.”

He lifted his napkin to dab the shining duck grease from his pink lips. By this time, the angel’s cheeks were tinted slightly pink with delight. Crowley reached for his wine glass, trying to look casual despite the fact that his mouth had suddenly gone completely dry. He topped off his glass and Aziraphale’s. He was, perhaps, going through his wine a bit faster than his partner was. 

Crowley sat painfully through the rest of the meal, trying to maintain a cool façade while he burned within watching Aziraphale shift in his seat, groaning in ecstasy. At one point, Crowley pushed his soup across the table without a word, along with the affronting giant crouton, having completely lost interest in both. 

“Oh, I couldn’t. That’s your meal, dear,” Aziraphale replied politely. 

“You don’t have to finish it, angel. Just have a little taste. I think you’ll like it,” Crowley said, “You’ll appreciate it more than I will, anyway.”

With that, Aziraphale pulled the plate and crock closer to him and gave it a try. Again, his eyelids fluttered closed. The show continued, but the best bit was yet to come. 

“Any dessert tonight, gentlemen?” the waiter said, interrupting the scene without realizing.

Crowley was perched on the edge of the table, resting his chin on his hand, leaning toward Aziraphale. He grinned behind his fingers. Oh, it was that time. 

Aziraphale placed his (really, Crowley’s) spoon down next to the now-empty crock and smiled winningly at the waiter, the very semblance of joy, glowing softly. 

“Oh, yes! I would absolutely love one of your chocolate éclairs,” he said, quietly clapping his hands together, eyes sparkling. 

“Ah, I’m afraid we are all out, sirs,” the waiter replied apologetically, “We had a large catering order earlier. We do, however, have a selection of cakes and petit fours. The crepes and éclairs are sold out until tomorrow.”

“Oh, dear, that certainly is a shame,” Aziraphale said, ceasing his soft clapping. 

“Not to worry, angel,” Crowley said quietly, before addressing the waiter, “Just the check, please.”

The waiter nodded and disappeared into the restaurant, wading through tables and patrons. The strange couple, they were good patrons. Good tippers, too. 

“We’ll stop at the little patisserie on the way home,” Crowley said with a wicked edge, “The one you like. How’s that sound?”

Aziraphale’s eyes lit up again.

“Oh, dear boy, that would be marvelous!” he replied, beaming delightedly. 

Crowley settled the check and they left in the Bentley, Crowley opening the door and closing it behind Aziraphale before climbing behind the wheel. This was the delicate part of the operation. He needed to drive slowly enough to not stress his angel and possibly put a damper on the mood, while maintaining just enough of an illegal speed to appear normal. This was exceedingly difficult when all he could think about was Aziraphale licking his lips and moaning back at the restaurant. He wanted the angel home as soon as inhumanly possible. He had to maintain his cool.

Miraculously, there was a parking spot right outside of the little patisserie. Crowley offered his arm to Aziraphale as they walked into the charming, warmly-lit shop. 

Aziraphale ordered an éclair and Crowley a small espresso, both to-go. They stood while they waited, Crowley’s hand on the small of Aziraphale’s back, causing the latter to blush. The angel leaned in and Crowley wrapped his arm around his waist, squeezing him tight. The demon savored the brush of his wrist over Aziraphale’s pudgy hip. Crowley’s hands itched to grab and squeeze, but he resisted. 

Their visit was short. Aziraphale’s eyes were alight with joy as he was handed his boxed éclair. Soon, they were back in the Bentley, Crowley sipping from his small disposable cup as he drove just over the speed limit, and Aziraphale carefully cradling his éclair in its little pale pink box like it was the most important thing in the world. 

They chatted happily in the car. At least, Aziraphale did. Crowley was still replaying the show from dinner in his head and didn’t trust himself to speak. He listened, nodding when appropriate. He dared to glance at the pastry box in Aziraphale’s lap and felt an electric jolt of lust sent straight to his cock. Soon, he swung the Bentley all-too-desperately into a parking space in front of the bookshop. In a blink, he was opening the passenger door for Aziraphale and following him inside. 

They moved immediately to the back room, both of them seated on an antique couch. The light was warm, the walls covered in books. In front of them was a table, where Aziraphale set down the precious pink treasure chest that held his éclair. Crowley gripped his paper cup as though the very fabric of the universe depended upon it. He took sips now and again, but it was nearing empty. 

“You gonna eat that, angel?” Crowley asked teasingly from across the couch, trying to maintain the façade that he was at all in control. 

Aziraphale reverently opened the carton to reveal the very platonic ideal of an éclair. Glistening chocolate coating over light golden choux pastry. He sighed in amazement, his hands held up, fingers wiggling slightly in excitement. 

Crowley shifted in his seat. 

“Oh, my word!” Aziraphale said softly, “Crowley, have you every seen such a beautiful thing before?”

“Oh, I have,” Crowley replied, staring at the angel’s profile. 

Aziraphale picked up the éclair delicately and marveled at it some more. It was surprisingly heavy. Crowley stared intently. He’d decided it would still be best if he left his dark glasses on. Aziraphale parted his lips, drawing the pastry closer. Crowley shifted infinitesimally in his seat.

Aziraphale took the first bite. 

“_Oh!_” he exclaimed softly through a mouthful of pastry, exhaling audibly. 

Crowley watched him chew, savoring the éclair. And then came the swallow. The bite that Aziraphale had taken was perhaps a bit too big. He swallowed with a little difficulty, Adam’s apple bobbing past his collar and bowtie. 

The angel brought it to his mouth again for another bite. Crowley couldn’t help but imagine those sweet lips wrapped around his cock instead. His cock had been stirring in his jeans throughout the evening, but he was no longer willing himself to stay calm. His jeans were beginning to feel tight and restrictive. 

“How is it, angel?” he asked, trying to sound calm and collected, nonchalant. 

“It’s delectable,” Aziraphale whispered reverently, opening his eyes dreamily. 

Cream was beginning to ooze out of the pastry, which Aziraphale quickly remedied with a darting of his pink tongue. Crowley took the last sip of his espresso to stifle a moan, leaning forward to set the empty cup on the old hardwood table. He might have done it a bit too loudly, but he wasn’t exactly sure. The friction on his crotch as he leaned forward was electric. As he settled back to watch his partner, he nearly cursed looking at his fingers on the pastry. 

Aziraphale ate the éclair slowly, savoring each bite, licking crumbs from his lips, issuing forth a litany of little moans and sighs. His brows knitted and relaxed. Crowley paid close attention to what he could see of the angel’s throat as he swallowed. He was teetering on the edge. He simply wanted to drag his angel upstairs and have his way with him, but interrupting his dessert was a surefire way to ruin the mood of the evening. So he waited. 

There were multiple reasons Crowley loved to watch. First and foremost, food made Aziraphale happy. He wanted desperately to make his angel happy. Many things made him happy, but food was the easiest one. Secondly, the display was gluttonous, positively hedonistic; an angel of Heaven in the throes of unabashed pleasure over a good meal and pastry. Crowley was in a thrall. No temptation required. Aziraphale could manage all by himself. The way he savored every bite and carefully considered every morsel before falling into ecstasy was absolutely carnal. 

Aziraphale finished his pastry with a satisfied sigh and delicately wiped his mouth and hands on the paper napkins provided by the patisserie. 

“Oh, what a wonderful meal,” he beamed, “Thank you, Crowley, darling.”

“My pleasure, angel,” Crowley said, hoping his dark glasses masked the look of pure lust in his eyes, “Shall we go stretch out? Have a little lie-down?”

“That’s a wonderful idea,” Aziraphale replied. 

They mounted the stairs to the living quarters on the second floor of the bookshop, Aziraphale in front and Crowley in back. It was a wonderful view. He watched the shift of his angel’s thighs, admired his ass. 

Aziraphale recognized that he had no use for sleep, but had chosen a rather sumptuous and comfortable bed once Crowley had started regularly spending time there. The bedroom had become more of a bedroom, where it had previously functioned as a workspace. Aziraphale had done what he could to make it homey and comfortable. The bedframe was elaborate, and the comforter was a deep, stately red. The amount of pillows piled against the headboard bordered on excessive. 

Crowley walked in and directly threw himself onto the bed, right in the middle with limbs sprawled outwards. He was propped up on the small mountain of pillows. Meanwhile, Aziraphale lingered in the doorway, carefully removing his jacket and hanging it on the standing coatrack. He walked over the bed, looking at the lanky demon sprawled there. Crowley stared at him, sunglasses down low on his nose. 

“My dear, where am I supposed to fit?” Aziraphale asked at the grinning creature. 

“Right here,” Crowley said, patting his inner thighs before folding glasses and placing them on the nightstand. 

Aziraphale climbed onto the bed and settled between Crowley’s endless legs, leaning his body back against his partner. Crowley sighed beneath him, and wrapped his arms around the angel’s waist. The demon welcomed the pressure of Aziraphale on top of him. He was almost painfully hard at the moment, and he knew that Aziraphale could feel it, but neither had said anything. 

Crowley began unbuttoning Aziraphale’s waistcoat. He was slow and methodical. He knew how fussy Aziraphale was about his clothing. Once he had vanquished all the little buttons, he pushed both sides of the waistcoat apart. He gently pressed one hand against Aziraphale’s rounded belly. He felt the angel squirm on top of him, which was glorious torture on his cock. 

“I might have overdone it a bit,” Aziraphale said sheepishly. 

“Nonsense, angel,” Crowley said, trying to disguise the predatory edge of his voice, “Just thought you might like a little belly rub after a nice meal.”  
Crowley started to rub Aziraphale’s belly, moving in slow circles over the fabric of his shirt. 

“Oh, that is quite nice,” he said, sounding a little breathless. 

“Just relax,” Crowley crooned softly. 

Aziraphale happened to find it terribly difficult to relax when he could feel Crowley’s stiff cock pressing against his clothed ass. But as the belly rubs continued, he found himself soothed, his eyelids drooping, his breathing becoming more regular. It was very nice. 

Crowley, on the other hand, was in absolute agony. He was trying not to jerk his hips. The weight of the angel in his lap was maddening enough. But this? This was simply too much. One hand was busily worrying a button on Aziraphale’s open waistcoat and the other was bestowing strokes on his perfect, soft belly. 

“Angel, you’re so sweet. How does that feel?” Crowley asked, try to sound innocent. 

“Oh, dear boy, it’s dreadfully nice,” Aziraphale sighed, relaxing further into his lap. 

“Would be nicer if there weren’t any-” the demon hissed in the angel’s ear, tugging his shirt from his waistband, “-fabric in the way.” 

“Crowley!” Aziraphale gasped in surprise.

Crowley’s deft fingers unbuttoned the angel’s shirt, starting at the bottom. He nuzzled against Aziraphale’s neck and breathed against his skin. Crowley loosed his bowtie and tugged the two sides of his shirt apart. His hands settled again on Aziraphale’s warm, round belly as he held him close. 

“I had a nice time tonight, angel,” he said, continuing to rub the soft flesh beneath his hands, careful not to press too hard. 

“Ah, so did I,” Aziraphale replied breathlessly. 

“Good,” Crowley growled, as one of his hands wandered up the angel’s torso and settled on his throat. He felt Aziraphale swallow against his light grip, Adam’s apple bobbing. He thought again of the éclair. Of the egg. Of the duck fat potatoes. He felt his cock twitch again in its denim confines. Meanwhile, Crowley’s other hand was attempting to push past Aziraphale’s belt and waistband impatiently, but it was a bit too tight for that. He quickly realized it was a futile exercise and began to work at his belt. 

“_Oh_,” Aziraphale gasped. 

“Oh, angel,” Crowley purred, “I love those sounds you make. That éclair was making me quite jealous earlier.”

He was now working on the button on the angel’s trousers. 

“Crowley-” Aziraphale groaned, writhing lightly against the clothed cock underneath him, “I’m so full. Be patient, please!”

“I’ve been _very_ patient,” he replied, whispering uncomfortably close to the angel’s ear, “I think it’s time I got my dessert, don’t you agree? Now, what kind of effort have you made for me tonight?”

He pushed his hand past the waistband of Aziraphale’s underwear and grinned viciously when he felt a soft, wet warmth there. 

“Oh, _angel_, you’ve made me something very nice indeed,” he said, his other hand leaving Aziraphale’s neck and travelling downward to his waist, “So kind of you. This feels like something I could eat for _hours_.”

Aziraphale gasped and pushed against Crowley’s hand. 

“Off!” the angel whined, tugging at his partner’s shirtsleeve. 

“That’s an excellent idea,” Crowley said, pulling both hands away and sitting up, forcing Aziraphale up with him. 

Crowley swung one of his legs around and sat on the side of the bed, disrobing hastily and messily. His clothes were soon a black puddle on the floor. He was done quickly enough to watch Aziraphale undress carefully. Bit by bit his soft, fair flesh was exposed. The angel always took his time where he clothes were concerned. When he was finally finished, down to his socks rolled and tucked into his shoes, he climbed back into bed and sheepishly laid down. 

Crowley suddenly found himself starving as he looked at his lover. Aziraphale was fair and lightly freckled, flushed pink down to his chest with arousal. His body was positively voluptuous. He smiled coyly, big blue eyes glimmering in the warm light. He looked almost a little shy. Crowley dragged in a deep breath as he looked at all that delicious, pliant flesh. He couldn’t decide where to begin. 

“Bit like a buffet, really” he whispered to no one in particular. 

Crowley shifted his body to lie next to Aziraphale, and lowered his mouth to his nipple. He began to suck and lave, one hand wandering to squeeze his chest, his side, his soft hip. Aziraphale tangled his fingers in the soft red hair and wriggled beneath his lover, making desperate little sounds. Crowley’s hand moved lower, passing a tuft of downy hair, purposefully ignoring his aching clit, and coming to settle two fingertips just barely past Aziraphale’s lips. The angel’s body stiffened and he cried out softly. Crowley raised his head from his chest, yellow eyes flashing and hungry.

He leaned his neck upward to capture the angel’s mouth, kissing him firmly but gently, in a way that betrayed his frenzied huger. When Crowley pulled away, a thin strand of spittle connected them. He fixed Aziraphale with a positively feral glare. 

“It’s time for dessert,” he growled, slithering down the bed to rest between Aziraphale’s thighs. 

“Oh, Crowley!” Aziraphale cried out, twisting slightly against the duvet. 

Crowley was busy inspecting his pussy – the soft pink lips like wet velvet, the flossy blond pubic hair, the distinctly appetizing clit peeking out coyly from its hood. 

“Oh, angel, you’ve outdone yourself,” he said, teasing his thumb down the inner crease of Aziraphale’s thigh, “Look at this sweet cunny. Positively dripping. What a lovely thing you’ve made for me. I think I’ll have a little taste.”

Crowley took one long lick from bottom to top. Aziraphale cried out and arched his back beneath him.

“So sweet. Responsive, too,” Crowley drawled, one hand splayed just above his pubic hair, “Yes, I think I’ll be down here for a while.”

“Crowley, you beast!” Aziraphale gasped, though it wasn’t quite a protest.

“Oh, c’mon angel. You’ve had your fun,” he purred, gently brushing a fingertip over his clit hood, “Let me have mine.”

He lowered his face and began to lick Aziraphale’s clit, his hands settling on the outsides of the angel’s thighs and coaxing them closed around his ears. Crowley stuck his tongue out and began to move his head from left to right in a steady rhythm. Aziraphale shook beneath him, his thighs trembling. The caress of soft skin against his ears was driving Crowley mad. 

The demon’s warm, wet mouth felt indescribably good to Aziraphale. He was grinding his hips against Crowley’s face, arched off the bed with one hand in his hair. The wet, sloppy sounds and guttural little groans Crowley made were positively sinful. They magnified Aziraphale’s pleasure until he felt like a buoy being rocked in a strong tide. 

“Look at you, my insatiable little thing,” Crowley said, lifting his head and smiling, his lips visibly wet, “So many hungry mouths to feed.”

An unseen finger pushed between Aziraphale’s wet lips and he gasped. He began to grind his hips, fucking himself on Crowley’s knuckly finger. As he raised his hips, Crowley’s pinkie finger grazed his asshole brazenly.

“- And don’t think I’ve forgotten about this one,” Crowley growled with a bright, wicked smile. 

“_Crowley_!” Aziraphale exclaimed, as though affronted, “You are an absolute _monster_!”

With a throaty laugh, Crowley pulled his hand away from Aziraphale’s ass and squeezed his thigh firmly.  
“A monster with very good taste,” he replied, “and you, angel, are the best thing I’ve ever tasted.”

He lowered his head again and began to suck on the angel’s clit, occasionally pulling his jaw back and gently taking the sensitive bud between his teeth. Everything was punctuated with Crowley’s tongue. Long, broad licks. Short serpentine flickers. Licks that started low, where his tongue touched his fingers, rocking in and out in a nice, steady rhythm. 

“Crowley! I-I-Oh, I’m so close!” Aziraphale cried out, hands grasping at the duvet, “I-I can hardly stand it!” 

After several more seconds, Crowley pulled his head away and removed his fingers with difficulty. As much as he hated to pull himself away, the delay was part of the fun.

“Can’t have you finishing too soon,” he growled as Aziraphale whined underneath him.

“You are positively cruel,” the angel huffed, fixing him with an annoyed glance. 

“Now, you and I both know that isn’t true, angel,” Crowley began, “I’ve got something very nice for you. Something you’ll like.”

“Is that so?” Aziraphale replied coolly, crossing his arms, unknowingly accentuating the cleave of his chest. 

Crowley got up on his knees and held his stiff cock in one hand. Aziraphale’s annoyed glance was begging to waver. He took a long look at his lover. He was ever astonished by Crowley’s long, lean body – his sinewy arms, his endless legs, his flat, smooth stomach, his blaze of ginger pubic hair. His cock was particularly elegant – long and curved and vascular. Aziraphale’s mouth began to water. 

“Why don’t you have a little taste, love? Surely you still have room,” Crowley purred, reaching out with his free hand to stroke the angel’s soft cheek. 

Aziraphale sat up on trembling thighs like a man entranced and took the demon’s cock into his hand with reverence. It was heavy and hot to the touch. 

“That’s it, angel,” Crowley said, tightening his grip on his hair, “Just pretend it’s an éclair.”

Aziraphale felt a sensual chill at these words and was suddenly very aware of his pussy, wet and cooling in the absence of Crowley’s scorching mouth. The angel leaned forward and down, putting the head between his warm lips, caressing the underside with his tongue. With one hand, he supported his weight against the bed, and with the other, he gripped the base of Crowley’s cock. He swallowed it slowly, sighing as he did. 

“Oh, _fuck_!” Crowley spat, “Oh, that’s right, angel. Take the whole thing. Sssswallow it!”

Aziraphale began to bob his head slowly, his lips wet and shining, eyes closed. Crowley looked down to take in the sight and felt every muscle in his body tighten. His beautiful Rubenesque angel, all curves and waves, lips wrapped around his cock. Crowley tried not to pump his hips into his partner’s mouth.

Aziraphale moaned around his cock. Crowley tasted of salt and smoke and sulfur, overlaying a faint masculine musk. He tasted positively sinful on the angel’s tongue. He moaned like he had moaned over dinner, over his delicious éclair. He had that same delighted expression as earlier – eyes closed, brows knitted in pleasure. The reverberation went straight to Crowley’s balls. 

“Oh, that’s enough, angel, that’s enough!” Crowley gasped, pulling his cock gently from the angel’s mouth, “You’ll make me cum before you’re satisfied.”

Aziraphale looked up at him with big blue eyes, full of love and wonderment, sparkling over the taste of something good. His lips were full and shining. 

“Oh, dear, you always satisfy me,” he said warmly and a bit questioningly, as though he didn’t fully understand Crowley’s last statement. 

“D’y – d’you like the taste of my cock?” Crowley asked, trying to reorient himself in the face of such angelic warmth. 

“Oh, heavens, Crowley, you know I do!” Aziraphale replied, “It’s one of my favorite things to-”

Crowley felt the heat within him suddenly flare to a blinding level at this positively angelic display. He pushed Aziraphale down roughly, squeezing back between his thighs and breathing hot on his wet pussy. Aziraphale gave a little cry at the shock and speed of the movement. Suddenly, he was on his back again. 

“Give me this cunt!” Crowley grunted, before diving in, pushing his tongue deep inside. 

Aziraphale was sweet. Sweet and slick and hot. Crowley groaned loudly as he felt the strong muscles clenching around his serpentine tongue. He was so deep inside. He never wanted to leave. In the moment, he was grateful that he technically didn’t ever have to come up for air. He used his thumbs to pull Aziraphale’s lips apart, so deep that his nose was pushed against his clit. Crowley felt the juices running down his chin and filling his mouth. He swallowed all he could. And the smell, oh, the smell. It was the most intoxicating thing the demon could recall in all his countless years. Sweet and clean. 

Aziraphale looked down at his lover between his thighs and cried out desperately. Messy red hair, eyes closed intently, with a look of absolute bliss and insatiability. His tongue was positively evil. It could do things, as far as Aziraphale was concerned, that no other tongue – human or inhuman – would ever be capable of. Aziraphale reached town to grip his lover’s thick red hair, riding his face with enthusiasm. 

“Crowley, yes! Just like that!” he managed, “_More_!”

“_Mmmm_!” Crowley groaned into his pussy, beginning to lose himself. 

The vibrations shot through Aziraphale with a keen intensity. He was vibrating like a bow string pulled taut.

“Crowley, I’m so close!” the angel desperately cried, hips jerking. 

Crowley pulled away quickly with a heady gasp, inserting two fingers deep into Aziraphale’s pussy with immediacy. With uncanny proficiency, he found the angel’s g-spot and began to stroke it hard, working his fingertips in a come-hither motion. He looked up with desperate, fiery eyes. 

“C’mon, angel, give it to me, please. Let me taste you. I’m fucking _starving_!” he begged, before pushing his mouth down again. 

Crowley looked absolutely wrecked and desperate, like a man gone without sustenance for millennia. It was too much for the angel to watch. Crowley lifted his face slightly and opened his mouth again, his dark tongue lolling out, an obscene forked abomination, its two ends moving independently, encircling Aziraphale’s sensitive clit. Crowley’s eyes were bright, but his expression appeared hazy as the two halves of his wicked tongue snaked and wriggled, teasing his angel. 

“That’s positively _obscene_!” Aziraphale gasped, pushing Crowley’s head back slightly for a clearer view. 

Aziraphale felt his entire body tighten before an immense orgasmic release. He watched Crowley’s handsome face and demon tongue intently. Crowley’s brows were arched, his gold irises locked with Aziraphale. Eyes that said “_I’m working so hard to please you_.”

“_Crowley_! Ah, ah! Crowley!” Aziraphale practically shrieked, his hips jolting with autonomy. 

Crowley closed his eyes and relaxed his mouth as he felt Aziraphale clenching around his fingers, feeling the hot, wet pulse of his orgasm. He rested his cheek against the angel’s inner thigh, gently thrusting his fingers as he felt the fervor of his partner’s orgasm gradually die down. Crowley breathed heavily, with a strong shudder. He stared up at Aziraphale, who had a look of shock on his face, staring up at the ceiling. 

Aziraphale’s hips stilled. He was panting, feeling overwhelmed, practically hovering from the intensity of his pleasure. Crowley pulled his fingers out slowly, gently, and began to lap hungrily at Aziraphale’s cunt, tasting his fluids, bathing his face. This sent little shocks of electricity through his lover, who quietly cried out beneath him, his eyes going half-lidded. 

Crowley rested his cheek against the inside of Aziraphale’s knee, gazing at him, rubbing the outsides of his thighs. For the moment, his ferocious gaze had gone soft, clearly pleased that he’d given so much pleasure. 

“Oh, Crowley, that was _incredible_,” Aziraphale said dreamily, opening his liquid eyes and fixing them on his partner, his gaze grateful and loving, “You’re so very good to me.”

Crowley wiped his chin on the back of one hand. He was so tempted to snark about the previous comment, something about him being _cruel_. But he was, in fact, overwhelmed with sweetness. Aziraphale’s taste, his scent, his glimmering eyes and soft voice. He had to look away for a moment. His heart almost couldn’t take it. In moments like these, he truly understood why Aziraphale acted the way he did around all things delicious and sweet. 

“Always, my sweet, spoilt little pet,” Crowley murmured. 

He moved from between his partner’s thighs and situated himself next to him, though still lower on the bed. He pressed a kiss to Aziraphale’s belly and then rested his cheek there. The angel was always so warm, and it was so pleasant to feel the little shocks of his muscles in the afterglow of a spectacular orgasm. Crowley moved his hand under Aziraphale’s belly, his fingers just gently stroking the crest of his white blond pubic hair. The sensation made Aziraphale tingle. 

Aziraphale looked down and saw Crowley’s throbbing cock. He was unsure if Crowley had been touching himself as he ate. 

“My dear, what about you?” Aziraphale asked, feeling momentarily quite guilty for forgetting about the main course, so to speak. 

Crowley turned his head to look up at him and his smile became wicked. 

“I hope you’re still hungry, angel,” he said, bestowing a small bite to the angel’s pliant side and taking to his knees. 

Crowley squared his hips and brandished his lean, hungry cock in his fist. 

“Have you got room for my cock?” Crowley asked, eyes agleam. 

“Oh!” Aziraphale gasped, “My dear boy, I’m not sure…”

This was all part of the game. Crowley kneeled between his thighs and supported himself on one wiry arm. He guided his cock against Aziraphale’s wet pussy, grinding against the outer lips and stiffening further in pleasure. The angel bucked slightly. 

“Oh, angel, you’re so _greedy_,” he teased darkly, beginning to push his cock inside a little, “Oh, just look at that trembling quim, just begging to be _filled_.”

Aziraphale was maddeningly hot, deliciously wet. Crowley felt a twinge run through his entire body. 

“Crowley, you’re so _bad_!” Aziraphale exclaimed, feeling his long cock press inside of him. 

“That’s why you love me, angel,” Crowley said through harsh breaths, “That’s why your body fucking _craves_ mine, isn’t it? Because I’m just so fucking _bad_.”

“Ah!” Aziraphale moaned, feeling Crowley’s cock moving slowly inside of him, “It’s so _big_!” 

Crowley used his free hand to grab Aziraphale by the chin. He leaned in dangerously. The angel was beginning to feel light-headed. 

“That’s why you’re always so hungry for me,” the demon continued, through gritted teeth, “because I’m just big and bad enough to satisfy you. To give you what you really need. Because you need more than you think you really need, my sweet greedy angel.”

Here, Crowley’s pubic bone pressed against Aziraphale’s clit and he waited a moment, savoring the feeling of being entirely inside his angel love. He felt Aziraphale’s muscles twinging around his cock and threw his head back with a hiss. He released Aziraphale’s face from his grasp and supported himself with both hands. He pushed his lean torso hard against Aziraphale’s full stomach. 

“Ah, Crowley! It feels so good,” Aziraphale said, reaching up to grip his partner’s back.

Crowley looked down at him with fearsome golden eyes, his jaw set. 

“I’m gonna give it to you until you can’t fucking take anymore, angel. I’m gonna make you have it,” he growled, before plunging into a deep kiss. 

Crowley’s hips were making short, exploratory thrusting motions as Aziraphale whimpered into the kiss. Crowley slowly began to deepen the thrusts as Aziraphale wrapped his thighs around him. Crowley broke the kiss and began to really rock him. 

“Ah, fuck. You’re so tight,” he hissed, “so tight for me.”

Crowley’s voice had changed from his convincing play-threatening to desperation. He began to roll his hips rhythmically, feeling the squeeze of Aziraphale around his cock, feeling dimpled thighs threatening to crush him. His eyes were closed tightly as he pushed harder. Aziraphale was gasping underneath him. Crowley felt soft hands on the sides of his face. He opened his eyes to see Aziraphale looking straight at him, his eyes liquid and wincing with pleasure. 

“Ah, angel, your pussy is so good,” he said, “so hungry for me. Do you want me?”

“Oh, Crowley, _desperately_!” Aziraphale said, angling his hips slightly before gasping, “Oh, _right there_! Right there, right there.”

Crowley could feel the head of his cock rubbing against Aziraphale’s g-spot with each thrust. He changed rhythm. He pulled out until only the head of his cock was inside of Aziraphale and made short, up-angled motions to focus on that delicious spot. Aziraphale cried out each time, the friction quickly driving him to the brink. Crowley pushed himself up so he could see more. He watched intently where they were joined, his cock sliding in and out of the angel’s dark pink lips, the blond fuzz. The shallow thrusts helped Crowley regain his composure a bit. 

“Oh, you really are a sight,” he said, regaining his naughty tone, “if only you could see yourself, taking my cock so nicely. Your gorgeous body. That incredible sopping cunt you’ve made. Oh, angel. You’re a marvel of creation, you are. I could watch you come undone for eternity.”

“_Crowley_!” Aziraphale exclaimed, utterly scandalized.

“I’m gonna give you what you need, angel,” Crowley drawled, leaning forward and bracing his hands on Aziraphale’s soft chest and squeezing, before straightening his posture and beginning to thrust deeper again. It was a statement that begged “_do you trust me?_”

“Oh, do give it to me, dear!” Aziraphale panted, feeling as though he was coming up on another orgasm. 

“Right _here_,” Crowley said, with a particularly deep thrust, causing his partner to writhe beneath him, “I’ll make sure you’re satisfied.”

“Crowley, you always-” Aziraphale began, earnestly.

“Angel, I’m gonna fill you up like one of those pastries you love,” Crowley gritted, grinning down at his partner, “make you my little cream-filled dessert. Like that?”

“Yes!” Aziraphale exclaimed, as Crowley stuck two fingers in his mouth. The thought was almost too naughty to comprehend. 

Of course, Crowley already knew that Aziraphale liked it. It was communicated wordlessly through the tightening muscles in the angel’s pussy. The demon reached down between them with his slicked fingers and began to rub his clit. He rubbed in a circular motion and grinned. 

“Like that?” he asked, looking down at his flushed, plush delectable angel. 

“Yes!” Aziraphale shouted, arching toward his lover’s hand.

“Cum for me, angel,” Crowley said firmly, “Show me. Let me feel it. Show me what that precious, hungry little cunt can do.”

With a few more thrusts and more insistent rubbing, Aziraphale tumbled over the edge again. This climax was stronger than the first, having something bigger to clench around. Crowley rode through it, but courteously stopped rubbing the angel’s clit, sure that it must have been very sensitive. Instead, he cupped his hand over Aziraphale’s pubic mound to maintain a sense of closeness. Crowley held back with preternatural self-control. 

He watched Aziraphale intently, with devouring eyes. The angel had thrown his head back, his eyes closed tightly, blond curls all mussed. One hand rested weakly in the center of his chest, and the other squeezed Crowley’s forearm. The way Aziraphale arched his back pushed all of his soft curves against Crowley’s flat planes. The bounce of his flesh was maddening. 

Crowley could feel Aziraphale’s convulsions from inside and out, around his cock and under his hand. His eyes rolled back and he gritted his teeth to hold on a bit longer. 

“Aaah, angel, it’s sssso good,” Crowey hissed.

Aziraphale looked up at him. His eyes had gone teary from being overwhelmed with pleasure. 

“So good to me,” Aziraphale managed, “thank you.” 

Crowley could still feel the angel’s cunt pulsing hot around him. He shifted just slightly and everything was warm and slick and perfect. He could tell by the dreamy look on Aziraphale’s face that he was nearly-catatonic with bliss. Lips slightly parted, sighing, eyes half-lidded. Crowley found moments like these intensely endearing. He could wait. He’d made it through dinner and dessert. He could wait a little longer. 

Aziraphale’s climax waned and he became distinctly aware that Crowley’s cock was palpably throbbing inside of him. He moved a hand low onto his stomach to see if he could feel the throb from the outside, but he couldn’t. 

“Feel okay?” Crowley asked, quirking his brows. 

“Yes, I just,” Aziraphale said, shaking off the last of his hysteria, “I can feel you inside me. Pulsing.”

Crowley’s entire body stiffened and he arched his back a little, eyes rolling again. 

“Oh, angel, you can’t just say something like that,” he groaned, “You’ll make me cum straight away.”

“I’m sure you’re very near to-” Aziraphale said, studiously. 

“No, no – not what I had planned,” Crowley breathed hastily. 

“Oh! What did you have planned?” Aziraphale asked. 

“I want you on top,” Crowley said plainly, his gaze gaining intensity again. 

“_Oh_,” Aziraphale replied, worrying his lower lip between his teeth. He felt dubiously about this. 

“Want to look up at you,” Crowley said, “at your body.”

Aziraphale felt his flush deepen.

“Ah,” he began thoughtfully.

Aziraphale was not always willing to be on top. It made him feel a bit self-conscious of his soft, ample body. Crowley could tell by the look on his face that he wasn’t entirely comfortable. He leaned in for a soft kiss. 

“Angel, you are the single most mouth-watering thing I’ve ever seen in all my six-thousand years,” Crowley said, has cock throbbing particularly hard, causing Aziraphale to gasp, “Ride me. Let me drink you in. Let me fill you up.”

Aziraphale sighed deeply, eyes fluttering like they had over dinner. He smiled. 

“Don’t pull out,” the angel said quietly, beginning to shift his weight. 

With some difficulty, they reconfigured. Crowley was on his back on the bed, with Aziraphale sitting across his hips, remaining joined throughout. Crowley stared up at his lover reverently. Aziraphale was glistening, glowing with sweat and post-orgasmic bliss. His thick thighs created a pleasant weight on Crowley’s boney hips. He felt Aziraphale’s wetness soaking his pubic hair. Crowley felt his heart thundering. 

He reached up and put his hands on Aziraphale’s waist, gently pushing his thumbs into his soft belly. He marveled at his partner’s body. His thick thighs, his ample hips, his soft chest. He was like a Baroque nude. The soft flush of his skin reminded Crowley of the Turkish delight that Aziraphale so loved. Crowley was particularly enamored by the soft roll of flesh that brushed the top of each of his thumbs at the angel’s waist. 

“Angel… The All-Mighty must’ve put in extra time when She made you,” he marveled with wide golden eyes.

He held his lover’s waist tightly and gave his hips an experimental rock. Aziraphale yelped and looked away with a curious expression.

“How’s that feel?” Crowley asked.

“Very full, dear,” Aziraphale replied. He looked almost woozy, pleasure-drunk. 

“Angel, you look such a treat,” he said, tightening his grip on his partner’s waist, “I could _devour_ you.”

He used his firm grip to pull Aziraphale down completely flush on his cock, savoring the tight, wet heat. With the angel pinned to him, Crowley wriggled his hips lasciviously. 

“-But I’d rather watch you devour me,” he finished. 

“Oh!” Aziraphale gasped, beginning to rock his hips in time. 

“That’s it, my greedy angel. Take my cock,” Crowley gritted out, “fill that sweet, gorgeous pussy.” 

He squeezed harder into Aziraphale’s soft flesh as he began to thrust. Crowley watched the delicious undulations of the angel’s body. A hypnotic bounce of soft, fair flesh. He was very close. 

“Crowley, it’s too much!” Aziraphale cried, overwhelmed with sensation.

Crowley threw his head back into the pillows, his neck muscles straining as he thrust frantically. He knew, of course, that it was not, in fact, too much for his angel to take. 

“Take it, angel! Take it all!” Crowley all-but shouted, “Guh, m’so close!”

“Fill me up, dear!” Aziraphale gasped.

Crowley came with a roar, arching his back as he shot pulse after hot pulse into Aziraphale. The angel was clenching in an exhausted third climax, twitching and groaning, his hands clasped tightly over Crowley’s hands at his waist. This orgasm wasn’t as powerful as the first two. It was reflexive, autonomous. Instead of electric bliss, Aziraphale experienced instant comfort, a welcome tiredness, a haze of relaxation. He felt Crowley’s warmth spreading deliciously inside of him. 

After it was all over, they both held very still, catching their breath. Aziraphale’s thighs were trembling. When he motioned to get up, Crowley held the base of his softening cock with one hand, grunting as it pulled out of Aziraphale. He used the other hand to steady the shaky angel, as he practically collapsed into bed next to him. 

Crowley rolled onto his side with difficulty and looked at him with bleary eyes for several long moments before Aziraphale opened his. The angel looked utterly satiated and sufficiently exhausted. Crowley gently placed a hand on his belly and began to rub in circular motions once more. 

“S’that good?” he asked, feeling quite tired himself. 

“Oh, darling. That was marvelous,” Aziraphale said quietly, melting into the bed from his partner’s soft strokes. 

“Angel, are you full now?” Crowley asked, his playful voice subsiding into sleepiness. 

“More than, darling,” Aziraphale replied. 

“Satisfied?” Crowley continued. 

“Entirely,” Aziraphale said, stilling Crowley’s hand and placing his on top. 

They smiled at one another for a long moment. They shared a slow, tender kiss. 

“Thanks for dessert, angel,” Crowley said, his tone inching toward naughty once more, “Now I see why you’re so enamored with éclairs.”

The angel playfully swatted him on the arm and spoke with a tone that was only half-affronted. 

“Anthony J. Crowley, You are positively beastly.”

“And you, angel mine, are positively insatiable.”

**Author's Note:**

> Whoa.  
This one was a bit out of my comfort zone to write, but I hope any of you who stuck around to the end enjoyed it. Now get out there and find a bakery!  
Thanks for reading!  
\- AF -

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [the sweetest sin](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20848658) by [pizza_my_heart](https://archiveofourown.org/users/pizza_my_heart/pseuds/pizza_my_heart)


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